Debate!
by Astrothium
Summary: T for language: Mello goes to Hogwarts, finding himself among the prejudice that he was automatically a dark-lord due to being a Slytherin. He was shunned for being a muggleborn, shunned for being Slytherin, will he ever find his place in Hogwarts? And of all the clubs they had, why didn't they have the thing Mello loved to do the most, Debate?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"_What the hell man! You fuckin' serious dude?! There's no way! There's absolutely no way!"_

_How the hell did it end up like this? _Mello asked himself- remembering his room-mate- Matt's, colorful words.

"_Unfortunately, Mr. Mello, it appears to be true."_

"_Near's gonna laugh his ass off about this! Why are you sending me to this freakish place?!"_

"Hello, Mr. Keehl, I am Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher from Hogwarts, head of Gryffindor."

Mello sat there- his soft blonde hair framing his face. It had slightly grown out a bit, reaching past his eyes. Once again, he brushed it off. He wore his normal clothing once again, a sleeveless muscle shirt, cross hanging from his neck, and trip pants. It was classic signs of a rebel, he knew that himself- and he knew himself to be a rebel.

He took a bite of chocolate, absorbing the delicious taste within his mouth.

"Hello Professor, you can just call me Mello," He reached out his right hand to shake the woman's hand, standing up as he went, who looked extremely uptight and strict, especially with her hair tied in a tight bun. She grasped it, giving him a small smile, obviously fake. Judging by the look on her face, she had a bad first impression of Mello, he knew that himself, knowing his clothes marked him a delinquent.

"Alright then, Mello, shall we move onto Diagon Alley?"

"Of course, Professor," Mello replied, knowing full well the world knew his real name.

The two together, walked to the back of the Leaky Cauldron in a small courtyard with nothing but a few trash cans and a huge brick wall. The Professor took a stick out of her pocket, and tapped several bricks, than a single brick three times. Despite the cool stoic look Mello managed to hold up at all times, he was amazed as a brick wiggled and turned into an arch way leading down an alley.

"This is Diagon Alley," Professor McGonagall said, to Mello, giving him a more realistic looking smile.

"Read the letter, I suppose you're able to manage by yourself? The caretaker did say, most people from Whammy's house that go to Hogwarts are truely exceptional, and very independent. I was told that you would run off first thing," the Professor said, handing Mello a pouch, "You must know the currency, the gold ones are Galleons, seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts to a Sickle."

"Thank you, Professor," Mello said actually smiling, "I'm sure they've informed you well."

"It should have enough for you to buy supplies and a bit more," and she disappeared with a pop. It almost surprised him when he thought to himself, _it's magic._

Looking down at the list once more, Mello began reading, deciding to start at the top of the list:

_First-year students will require:_

_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags_

Mello hated one thing with a passion- that was ignorance, on a second thought, being second as well, made him extremely angry. He hated not knowing things- because he hated asking in the first place.

"Excuse me miss, do you know where they might sell wizard robes?" he asked a passing witch, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Why of course, hon," Mello almost blanched at her choice of words, "at Madam Malkin's, right down by the corner over there!" she pointed to the small shop five houses down.

"Thank you miss," as she was lost into the crowed, Mello snatched a pouch from her bag.

_Score, _he thought to himself, it was filled with gold coins- Galleons, better start calling them that now. The lady must have been rich, the pouch was made of scaly substance he assumed was dragon skin.

_Now to head down to Madam Malkin's, _Mello hoped the robes would look at least, a little bit cool. Name tags already deteriorated the look of everything anyways.

How wrong he was.

He walked into the small looking shop with dresses and robes being shown through a window, the title "Madam Malkin's Robes and Formal Wear." Seems legit.

As he walked into the store, a small bell rung.

"Hogwarts, dear?" a kindly looking lady smiled at the boy, "got a lot here, another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of a shop, a boy with glasses and messy hair that would make Ryuuzaki Rue proud, or as Mello knew him, L**. (Author's Note: I didn't actually read the BBLA book or whatever, just the beginning. I assume Mello and L have met once, and if not, then let's just say he has anyways.)**

The witch stood Mello on a stool much to his contempt, standing him next to the unknown boy with a thin shaped lightning bolt scar. His green eyes glanced at him, his eyes then darted to the witch, and to the door.

Mello noted to himself that the boy was used to tight situations. The boy had calculated, glancing over to his clothes first- he detected Mello as a threat because that's perhaps what the bullies he had back at his own house. He looked at authority, the witch, to see if she would be able to stop what would happen, and looked at the first method of escape, the door.

Mello knew, of course, this was all subconscious, his own brain taking the initiative to survive- his instinct was strong. Most people don't have that trait, it normally comes from abusive families, bullies, or both.

He looked back to the window, spacing out for a while.

After having finished pinning robes on the other boy, the woman slipped a robe over himself, much to Mello's discomfort, and began pinning the clothes everywhere, looking for a correct measurement. Mello sighed, holding out his arms for her.

The thin boy hopped off the stool and walked towards a gigantic man. A guardian, a parent, Mello didn't know, and he couldn't tell what the boy was thinking as his back was faced to himself. But he walked out, his arms had a heap of robes and what not.

Finally, the woman measured Mello's head, flicking her stick- wand- to record some measurements on paper, the quill writing itself onto parchment, "All done dear," she said to him.

"It says I need gloves," Mello said awkwardly to the witch.

"Yes, I may as well give you the gloves now, dragon hide?"

"Yes ma'am," Mello knew being polite was always a way to get what adults or children to do what you wanted them to do, quickly and effectively.

She went to the back, rummaging through shelves and such, coming back to hand him a pair of gloves, "These fit most first-years," she gave him the gloves.

He tried them on, finding them very comfortable, as he payed her ten Sickles and four Gallons for the rest of the robes, which were sewn together in maybe ten seconds. She used magic to put them together, and Mello was amazed to watch the clothing weave itself together..

She handed the folded robes to me inside a brown bag. (A/N: sorry, I have no idea how these people shop with the little information they give us) finding it heavy.

He smashed the hat into the bag, not looking at the fact he had gloves on still, and looked down at his list once more:

_All students should have a copy of each of the following._

The Standard Book of Spells_ (Grade 1)_

_by Miranda Goshawk_

A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot_

A Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling_

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Swith_

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

_by Phyllida Spore_

Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger_

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

_by Newt Scamander_

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

_by Quentin Trimble_

Mello decided to get books next. Carrying the gigantic brown bag, he began heading over to Florish and Bott's, having asked another man where the books were. The man looked incredibly rich, long blonde hair and piercing blue-grey eyes, and a cane that looked rather official. Happily, he pocketed more money, from the inside of the man's robes.

It was ten times the amount of the witch, with incredible heaping amounts of Galleons.

When he arrived, once again, a small bell clung.

As he bought each of the books happily, he found himself wandering deeper into the stores, finding more and more interesting books. With a huge stack of books, the clerk gaped at the amount of books, but he had enough. The blonde haired man's money still hadn't run out by the time he finished. Another bag to carry, he almost complained.

_Of course,_ he felt stupid, he needed a trunk. Looking in another shop, displaying broomsticks had nothing interesting, but in another shop previous to that, he found what he was looking for. A trunk.

_AND IT WAS BIGGER ON THE INSIDE! _No amount anyone could say would amount to his happiness, as he spent the rest of the blonde haired man's money. Damn it was expensive, finding the blonde hair man's money doubled his own shortly after calculating.

It had the ability to _SHRINK_ and was put within his pocket!

He merely had to say shrink, and he had an entire library stored within his pocket... well, a small shelf of a library. Either ways, it was completely worth it.

After getting over the fact he had a totally bad-ass trunk within his pocket, he decided to get a wand... or an animal? He thought to himself, _they're quite loud and annoying, and a hassle to feed... _He walked into the shop anyways, wondering if there would be anything that would suit him, and there was a lady feeding a large black cat.

"Welcome, here for a pet?"

Mello replied shortly and straight to the point "Yes, ma'am,"

"Are you looking for a cat, toad, or an owl?" she asked sweetly.

He glanced around the shop, there were plenty of different types of animals, not just owls, cats and toads.

Mello was tempted to ask for a dog, but decided against it. Better stick to the rules.

His eyes landed on cages full of meowing kittens.

"Ah, how about a cute kitten? They're rather popular, I'm sure-"

"No thank you, I'm looking for an animal that... won't bother me."

"Owls are good," his eyes followed towards the owl cages, "they deliver letters and are most certainly useful."

No, an owl wasn't common in the world, he needed something that would be normal, that limited him to cats.

His gaze lowered to a cat with his face smashed halfway in, next to it was an evil looking cat with bright green eyes. They stared at him hauntingly.

"That's Crooshanks, lovely dear, nobody has ever bought him, and the other cat but we haven't named her yet," the cat she was speaking of was huge, about the size of my arms, and it had long black hair, and it stared at me with these huge green eyes.

"Why haven't you named a fully mature cat yet?"

"Because she isn't fully mature, in fact, she was born less than twelve weeks ago. She'll keep growing bigger,"

_El perfecto, muahahaha, _Mello thought to himself, everyone... will be terrified.

"Poor dears, everyone's always so afraid of them."

Afraid was an understatement. That was the deadly most awesome cat Mello had ever laid his eyes on, but one final question, concluded the selling, "Is she quiet?"

"Yes," she replied, smiling to him.

"Alright, I'll take her,"

"That'd be nine Galleons," she replied, back at the counter, Mello could have sworn she was doing a happy dance as he picked up the cage with the cat in it.

"Hello," the cat just smiled at me, with this huge, fat grin. Mello decided it was awesome, the cat's grin stretched pretty widely, giving him deja vu about Cheshire cat.

The question of which was what to name it. Mello pondered for a while, buying proper equipment and food for his new cat.

"I've got a fucking awesome cat," Mello decided, it simply smiled at him, as Mello smiled back.

He continued down Diagon Alley, cat in hand, to the store nearest to the back, _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._ A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. He walked in, and a small tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as he opened the door. A single spindly chair was in the corner. I sat on it, observing the shelves of small, thin, boxes.

"Good afternoon, I am Mr. Ollivander," an old man said to him, his wide, pale eyes like shining moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," Mello replied, looking at the ominous man.

"Mr..." he inquired Mello's name.

"Keehl," Mello replied with contempt, really hating the fact he had to use his real name.

"Very well then, Mr. Keehl, I suppose you're here for a wand too, starting at Hogwarts."

"Yeah," Mello replied, wanting to get to the point.

"Alright, please hold out your wand arm," Mr. Ollivander said. Wand arm? Mello translated that to -which hand you write with- as he held out his left hand. Mr. Ollivander pulled out a tape measure with silver markings on it. He measured me from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and around his head. It appeared to be a magical tape measure judging by the fact it was measuring itself.

As he measured he began talking to Mello, "Every Ollivander wand has a powerful magical substance, Mr. Keehl. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same," the tape measure continued measuring as Mr. Ollivander was rummaging through boxes in the back, "just as no two unicorns, dragons, and phoenixes are quite the same. And of course you'll never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

"Alright, Mr. Keehl, try this, sycamore and dragon heartstring, nine inches, nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave,"

So Mello held the stick in his hand, awkwardly staring at it, when Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand.

"Beechwood and dragon heartstring, ten inches, surprisingly swishy," he once again, hardly moved when it was snatched directly out of his hand.

"Maple and pheonix feather, seven inches, quite whippy," and once again, it was snatched out of his hand. More and more wands were tried, when suddenly, Mello decided he caused mass destruction, papers flying everywhere, glass shattering, a towering shelve full of boxes falling down.

"Hmm, tricky customer, eh? Well I've never failed. Why don't we try this one? Yew and phoenix feather, twelve and a hsalf inches, a very powerful combination, reasonably supple," Ollivander handed him the wand with fear written within his eyes. Mello didn't know why, _"a very powerful combination,"_ perhaps so powerful it was dangerous? Mello hoped to himself.

He lifted the wand as a shower of silver sparks shot out of the wand, the wand was glowing with warmth within his hand, making him feel... almost a _part of it._

"Wonderful!" Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands together, putting the wand back into the brown paper, "that would be eight Galleons, Mr. Keegl. You were a tough customer but we managed to get through." He took seven galleons out of the pouch he stole from the long haired blonde, damn that guy was rich enough to keep him going, grabbing a hold of his new wand wrapped within the brown packaging.

"Thank you," he said, politely, exiting the shop.

Perhaps he would be able to start an account for himself, Mello thought, as once again, he headed to a place called Gringotts. Meanwhile, he stole a few pouches on the way, from all the people that looked rich. They'd be able to handle themselves, Mello thought to himself.

He was reasonably rich when he got there, seven hundred fifty Galleons in total, to his sheer amazement.

When he arrived to the nasty looking goblin sitting at the desk, he awkwardly said, "Um, can I open an account?"

The goblin looked at him, pushing down his glasses with long, spindly fingers to stare at him.

"Muggle-born?"

"Yes sir," Mello had never felt more out of place in his life, the goblins scared him.

The goblin gave him a wry smile, "Well, I suppose we could get you started."

The cat in his cage sat comfortably close to him, his hand numbly holding it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Only a select few knew Mello had gone to Hogwarts, each for their own purposes. Matt knew, because they were room-mates, and he would need to know why he was gone for the entire year. None of Whammy's children went to a normal private school- Whammy's house _was _a school. So no excuse would work anyways. Near knew, only because he came in first, and Mello wanted to tell him he wouldn't be competing during school times. Mello simply did not back out of competitions, so no excuse would work either. And of course, orphanage-caretaker-dude, (Mello hadn't cared enough to learn his name), knew, because Mello would be coming back. And he, like the rest, were smart enough to figure out the world of wizards, much to the wizard's contempt.

But Mello wasn't the first wizard or witch that was born out of Whammy's house. Eventually things became suspicious, and they were found out. Well, after all, they were a house of extremely gifted children with genius IQ's. It was rather funny because once it was figured out, they began breeding the clever owls of the wizarding world, because urgent news constantly needed to be passed. Urgent news: someone beat Near. Holy shit.

It was certainly uneventful, as he returned to being cooped up in his room once more, with Matt. No words were spoken, as Halo four was inserted into XboX, once again, they were campaigning across the rocky terrains, murdering all of the covenant.

The only sound other than the fan constantly blowing back and forth, occasionally sweeping Mello's hair up, was the sounds of buttons clicking. Unfortunately, that day, children were testing, so once again, they had to turn off the sound. That "Horrid Day," as Matt referred to it, happened once a month, throughout the summer, to test intelligence and such, to children younger than ten. Of course, Matt couldn't game that day with sound, so all sound was always off.

He had grown to like his cat, in which he contemplated over for a whole day exactly what he was to name the cat. Finally, he sighed, and gave up, going back to the original name he had, which was rather unoriginal, "Rue Ryuuzaki," the name L had used when the two had met on a fateful day.

Mello didn't believe in fate, so cross the horrid words of the author.

"How do you like to be called Ryuuzaki? Rue for short?" he had asked the cat. The cat merely grinned at him, magical cats having them special powers... either ways it was a fucking awesome cat.

He took that as a yes, and began calling the she-cat "Rue." The cat never meowed once, when she was hungry, she would push her green food bowl to him, and when she was thirsty, she would push her blue food bowl to him. She pooped outside- seeing she was outside most of the time. But Ryuuzaki caught most of her own food, birds or mice, and Mello often didn't need to feed her. He was extraordinarily proud of the cat.

The day Mello had opened a bank account under the name of Kaufman (due to his insecurities of having a real name), where the Goblins promised to protect it. Mello had a key made for him, and twenty-five Galleons to standardly open his account. The rest had been all inserted, seven hundred twenty-five heaping piles of Galleons.

Holy shit that guy was rich.

The fact that they had vaults to store things, both items and gold, was pretty damn cool in Mello's opinion. The bank accounts were explained with multiple questions, such as interest, which was practically nonexistent within spending accounts. When someone went to the wizarding prison or died, their accounts would automatically change to savings accounts. Most people set a side a set amount and saved up in the savings, and often spent it on stocks. It was surprisingly similar to the muggle way of spending. Somewhat simple and effective.

The goblins were as serious about banking as much as the Swiss were, whom of which took high pride in their own banking. But the currency of money in the wizarding world was far more effective- gold being worth their amount, bronze being worth their amount, and silver being worth their amount. The amount each Galleon, Knut, or Sickle would never change, inflation was impossible. Which meant their economy stabilized much easier than normal economies, and currency wouldn't run out because there would never be enough wizards as there were muggles.

When Mello finally arrived at King's Cross Station in a car, alone with orphanage-caretaker-dude, as Mello decided that his name would be food due to the fact orphanage-caretaker-dude was too long. Food sent him off, when Mello also decided Food was too brief. Why the hell didn't he just use Caretaker? He sighed to himself, the trunk shrunk within his pocket, and cat cage in the other hand.

Mello holding Ryuuzaki didn't catch an awful lot of attention, as Mello stared towards the big signs, "PLATFORM 9," and "PLATFORM 10."

Where the hell was platform nine and three-quarters? Mello said out loud, "To hell with this."

There was no way anyone would know, platform nine and three-quarters was nonexistent. He paced back and forth, between platforms nine and ten, not really knowing what to do.

"Nine and three quarters!" piped a small red-head girl, Mello spotted her quick enough. The station was packed with people, he was lucky he found a wizard or a witch or whatever the hell-

Holy shit.

_That's a hell lot of red hair..._ an entire family of gingers. Matt had been the only ginger that Mello had ever known. The mother appeared to be a dumpy short looking woman, with red hair- of course.

"Mum, can't I go-," begged a little girl.

"Ginny, you're not old enough to go, be quiet," the mother replied shortly, "alright Percy, you go first."

Mello made his way through the crowed, to find named-Percy marching towards the third post between nine and ten, and walking straight through it. He was simply amazed, as the wall closed in behind him, and no one appeared to even notice.

"Fred, you're next," the woman called two identical twins, indicating one.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," the twin said, "honestly, and you call us your mother? Can't you tell the difference between us?"

Mello couldn't help but grin, the twin was actually Fred, his body language, named-Fred was lying.

"Sorry George dear," the woman replied.

"Just kidding, I really am Fred," the boy grinned at his mother before he walked through platforms nine and ten, into the wall.

He found himself staring as the boy with lighting scar that got abused- with bright green eyes, walking up to the dumpy woman and asking. Well, looks like he'd take his time listening- "all you have to do is walk straight in between the barriers of nine and ten, best to do a bit of a run if you're nervous."

And that was all Mello needed to hear. Running towards the barrier, he trusted himself not to crash into it. There was no way-

In an instant, gone was platforms nine and ten. He looked up to see platform nine and three-quarters. A huge scarlet engine was by it, ready to leave, steam pouring over all the people. The platform was packed with people, cats winding between people's legs here and there. Ryuuzaki was clawing at her cage.

"Ryuuzaki I'll let you out when we get onto the train," Mello said fondly to the cat. The cat grinned up to him, and Mello could have sworn she nodded.

Mello found himself wishing the cat could become human. He made his way onto the train, ignoring the red-headed twins as much as he would like to approach them. But he didn't, the twins were probably pranking, grins plastered on their faces, eyes lit up with excitement.

Mello knew that kind of person, and he loved those people. So unlike Near, and very full of life.

He made his way back, compartments filling quickly by the instant with chattering youngsters and joking elders. Not much older, perhaps fifteen or seventeen.

Finally, he found quiet and peace in a single empty compartment near the back. He un-shrank his trunk- finding out that it could be shrunk at the amount of time it could be un-shrank. If he un-shrank it for an hour, then he could have it in his pocket for an hour. It had only been sitting in the shop for two days, so he wanted to save the amount of time. He figured it needed to generate enough magical energy to shrink before it un- shrank. It made sense, magic needed at least the barest amount of logic to keep itself going.

Mello needed logic. It would make him incredibly frustrated if the trunk could simply shrink and un-shrink with unlimited amounts of time. Having read up at nights with the books he had bought, he read about magical cores and magical power. Normally the shrank trunk would be connected to the person who shrank it's magical power, but if one generates enough magical energy from the core, they can separate it and incorporate it into objects such as the shank trunk. The trunk would generate it's own magical power, creating it's own artificial core. But it didn't separate from the core of the wizard, the wizard wouldn't get any less powerful. It was simply powerful magic that would exhaust a core for a while.

After sitting for a while, the boy with green eyes and a thin shaped scar opened the compartment door, and awkwardly looked at Mello, "um, can I sit here?"

"Sure," Mello said, staring out the window, as the boy sat across from him. He watched as people filled into the train, parents hugging their children good-bye. Mello absentmindedly opened the cage, letting out his fluffy black cat, which leaped onto his lap. He stroked his long fluffy fur, the cat was gently purring, while grinning creepily at Harry.

Harry stared at the cat.

Ryuuzaki stared back.

They had an intense staring contest, so intense Mello felt the electricity spark between the two. He watched them, cheering on Ryuuzaki within his mind.

The train slowly began to move, the two starers paid no attention, their gaze fixated upon each other, green eyes clashing with green eyes.

Mello saw the scar-headed boy slowly begin to grin, matching the smile of his cheshire-cat look-alike.

When the train got faster and faster, the compartment door opened, showing the youngest boy in the ginger family, who had a black spot on his nose. Freckles were scattered across his face.

"Um... mind if I sit-"

"SHH!" Mello almost yelled at the boy, pointing at the seat next to him. The boy hastily took it, wondering what was so intense. When he saw what was going on, he was quiet.

No one blinked, staring at the incredible staring contest.

The compartment door slid open once more, much to the distaste of Mello and the contestants of the staring contest.

"Hey Ron," it was the twins.

"SHH!" Mello and Ron said together, staring at the incredible staring contest. Suddenly the twins were sitting on each other's lap when they sat down next to the scar-faced boy.

Scar-face and Ryuuzaki continued to stare, lighting was crackling. The train was full speed, four minuets had passed. No one blinked.

No one.

And finally...

"AWW!" yelled Mello, his lovely cat, blinked- but at the same time, another "AWW!" was heard from next to him.

Young-red-head had said it. Scar-face blinked at the same time.

Tension was released as the staring contest ended with a tie. The twins sighed disappointedly, "A TIE!"

"What a scandal!" the twin sitting on the other's lap said.

"Oh the terror!" the one beneath said.

"How disappointing," the one on top said.

"How terrible," the one beneath said once more.

The two finally sighed at the same time, and got up, "that was intense, Goth's cat, and Goth, ickle Ronnie, Harry, thank you for the show. Anyways, Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there,"

"Goth... and Goth's cat..." Mello repeated absentmindedly. Sure he was wearing all black again, sure he wore black every day, sure there were crosses on his trip-pants, they came with chains... he was wearing his sleeveless shirt once more, a cross dangling from his neck... _holy shit he was goth._

"I've come to realize a new meaning to life..." Mello muttered.

"That's good, we must learn something new every day," one twin said within a zen moment.

"Yes it is good, you have come to realize yourself,"

"I'm a fucking goth,"

"That's one way to put it," one shrugged.

"Or you could have just said 'I'm goth?!'" the other replied.

"Swearing is bad,"

"Yeah, swearing is bad,"

"Shut the fuck up,"

The twins were laughing, "See you later..."

"What's your name?" the other asked, "you would be a fantastic candidate,"

"As the next generation prank master,"

"Mello," he replied absentmindedly... _I'm goth..._

Why didn't he realize that before? All indications had pointed in that direction, why the hell didn't he notice that before?!

Finally silence filled the compartment as the twins were gone.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" ginger asked.

Scar-face nodded, now dubbed Harry.

"Oh well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes. And have you really got," ginger pointed at Harry's forehead, "you know..."

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ginger stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who..."

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said ginger eagerly.

"Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said ginger. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Hey, um ginger, I'm getting tired of calling you ginger, what's your name? I'm sure it's not ickle Ronnie..." Mello asked, calming down after a moment.

The boy blushed scarlet, "It's Ron."

"Okay, Ron, cause you got something in your pocket, and Ryuuzaki looks like she wants to eat it,"

"Wha-" Ron began, feeling his pocket, "um oh... yeah, that's Scabbers, a rat..."

His ears were pink, as Ryuuzaki got up, and stared at his pocket.

"Oh well, maybe you should... do something to him?"

"Eh... why don't you do something about your cat?" asked Ron.

"Because my cat is active, your rat is sleeping. Like a cage or something that will keep my beautiful cat-"

"Beautiful?" asked Ron incredulously.

"Yes, she's beautiful,"

"If anything that cat's the creepiest thing I've seen in my entire eleven years of life,"

Harry couldn't help but nod.

Mello scowled, "Well than, if my cat goes after your rat, then it's not my problem is it?"

Ron blushed scarlet, Mello had used the killing blow, Ron had to do something about his rat.

"Well I don't have a cage or anything fancy like that, my family couldn't aff- I mean," _afford it,_ Mello finished within his mind.

"You can use this cage," Mello said out of sympathy, pulling the cage from the rack where the three trunks were sitting.

"Uh, okay," Ron hastily grabbed the rat out of his pocket, and put it inside the barred cage, setting it next to Harry. Mello could have sworn Ryuuzaki sighed, as she looked up at him in contempt.

"I doubt we'll get the same room or however they split it anyways,"

"You're a muggle-born?" asked Ron.

"Muggle-born? Meaning I was raised by non-magical people? Most definitely, yes."

"Well there's two dorms, girl and boy, which are connected to the common room, at least that's how Percy described it..." Ron said.

"So exactly how does Hogwarts work?" Mello asked, wanting to leach out as much information as he could.

Harry appeared to be highly interested in the conversation, as he leaned forward.

"Um well, there are four houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin..." Ron launched into a long explanation of how his family viewed the houses.

Mello decided his explanation was highly biased, basically summerized by, "Gryffindors are the best, Ravenclaws are the brains, Hufflepuffs are where no one wants to be sorted where they don't fit into any other house, and Slytherin was where the dark wizards went."

Ron didn't know what else to say, seeing he hadn't actually been to Hogwarts, and was simply going off the description of what other people said.

After Ron was finished explaining what he knew, he turned to face the window, and he sighed.

Mello then turned to Harry, "so how did you find out you were a wizard?"

Harry launched into a tale of how he lived on Number Four, Private Drive, his cousin Dudley in which Mello took an immediate disliking to even though they hadn't actually met. Harry simply described he was fat and how he got all of Dudley's old clothes, which were much too big and overused for him. He never got proper birthday presents either. Finally when he got to the part where there were thousands of copies of letters sent to Harry that he never got.

He explained, "... and Hagrid burst into the cabin, knocking the door down, and he bent Uncle Vernon's gun when it was pointed at him. He brought this giant cake, because it was my birthday. He said he accidentally sat on it. But it didn't really matter since I hadn't really got anything for any of my birthdays. I didn't even know about the wizarding world until Hagrid explained how my parents went to Hogwarts, but they were killed by Voldemort-"

Ron gasped.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!"

"Oh so that's who you know who is," Mello said, sighing, "it's actually an awesome French term."

"French term?" both Ron and Harry asked.

"I know French... vol-de-mor, with a silent 't', otherwise vol de la mort," Mello carefully pronounced it so the two would get it, "means flight from death. It's often a phrase used to explain a quest for immortality."

"Wicked," Ron said next to him, amazed that Mello knew so much. Normally one would be saying 'you got that from Near.' No, Mello knew six different languages, and Near only knew English and Japanese, because Near thought it was stupid. Mello decided it would always come in handy.

But despite all causes, Mello could feel his face heating up. A compliment wasn't easily gotten for himself.**  
**

Mello had an unnoticed pink on his face, as he turned to stare out the window. When a dumpling lady slid open the door, asking a question, "Anything off the trolley dears?" she asked.

Harry, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor.

He had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry - but the woman didn't have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs. Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Mello on the other hand, carried two galleons, and had asked for all the chocolate there was. And there were only Chocolate Frogs. So he bought a few of them, as the lady changed his two galleons into sickles and knuts.

Harry had gone back into the compartment, dumping everything on the seat next to him, as he put Scabbers in Ryuuzaki's cage- onto the ground underneath the shelves holding the trunks.

They sat back down, "Hungry, are you?" Ron asked.

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite of the pumpkin pasty.

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on -"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with.

Mello slowly opened one of the chocolate frogs, afraid that they were really frogs. And indeed, the chocolate frog leaped out onto his hand. Mello grabbed it, squishing it.

"You're not getting anywhere," Mello smiled evilly. The frog made a defeating croaking sound, and died. Mello tore it's head out, making sure the insides were chocolate. They were. Perhaps it was a small charm that once they were unwrapped, they would leap around for a while. He ate it, surprised the chocolate tasted like the chocolate he always ate.

He let another one out, and Ryuuzaki began playing with it, as the frog jumped onto the ground, leaping several directions. Ryuuzaki appeared to be having the time of his life as the frog was tortured. Finally the frog leaped one final time before it completely stopped.

Well if he ever got tired of chocolate frogs, he always had that enormous chocolate bar stash in his trunk.

He picked it up off the floor, it was limp. Dusting it off, he popped it into his mouth. What went unnoticed was that there was a card at the bottom. He heard Ron explaining to Harry exactly what the cards were for.

"You can have mine," Mello managed, handing two cards to Harry, "I have better interests then collecting cards."

It was arrogant. But it was true.

"It's Agrippa!" Ron moaned, as Mello handed it over to Harry.

Harry's eyebrows raised. Well, if Agrippa was so rare-

"They're both Agrippas!" Ron croaked once more, making it sound like he was a chocolate frog.

"You can have one," Harry smiled at him, handing him one.

After Mello finished eating all of his own frogs, passing out his cards to Harry, who was just starting a collection, Harry offered him the rest of the sweets and cakes sitting next to himself. Mello, embarrassed, began too, working through the chocolates Harry had.

They appeared to be talking about moving pictures, when Mello picked up a card labeled "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE."

_ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS_

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

The picture did indeed, appear to be moving. Mello raised an eyebrow, but put the picture back down. Dumbledore waved to him cheerily.

Mello decided to take to the activity of staring out the window, while observing the information of the wizarding world Ronald had been sprouting.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When Harry and Ron shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," Harry said comfortingly.

"Yes, well if you see him..." the compartment door closed once more.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing in the cage.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway," He had just raised his wand, pointing it at the rat in the cage, when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

Mello looked interested at the fact of seeing more magic, as he watched Ron, taking his eyes off the window.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She walked in. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er - all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow," Ron finished.

Nothing happened.

Butter Mellow. Why did he choose the name Mellow again? Oh right, yellow was awesome. And it totally contradicted his personality. Mello wasn't Mellow.

Scabbers was fast asleep, and didn't turn yellow, much to the disappointment of the tenants of the compartment.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?

She said all this very fast. Harry looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

Mello said nothing.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.

"Am I?" said Harry, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do any of you know what house you'll be in? Sorry, I never got your name," she indicated Mello, who paused to consider giving her his name, when she launched into another string of sentences, "I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

Mello sighed, as Ron and Harry began talking about houses once the girl left.

He continued staring outside. A flash caught his eye- they were deep within a forest, a wolf. So there were wolves in the area?

A long moment passed, Ron was talking about things that he didn't care about, games, houses... what about something more intelligent?

Finally, something interesting happened, three boys entered, the pale blonde one was looking at Harry with interest.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," Harry said coolly.

Mello sighed once more, angry this time. He didn't want to pay attention. He wanted to ignore what was going on in front of his face. But he was getting tired.

"Ryuuzaki," he asked his cat, who looked up at him with a grin, "Draco Malfoy or whatever your name is, sit down across from me. I need you to do something. Ron, get up, you can move over next to him. Your lovely body guards can just stay outside or whatever. Mello began clearing off the wrappings of the sweets onto the floor.

Draco Malfoy looked strangely at him, "who are you?"

"No one you care about. This is very obviously leading to a fight. Now sit down, Ronald Weasley, please get up,"

Ron looked at Mello strangely, "Staring contest."

Ron nodded in agreement. Another staring contest.

"Draco, if you win, then Harry has to sit in your compartment for the rest of the train ride, and if you lose, then you get out,"

"What is it?" Draco asked confusedly.

"A staring contest. With my cat."

"What? I'm not going to-"

"Ah, I see, you're too scared to," Mello used the commonly used bait to get Draco out. It was used often, it was often much too effective. People were stupid.

"What are you doing using me as part of the deal?" Harry asked. He was ignored to his reluctance.

Draco reluctantly sat down across from the blonde haired boy.

Silence was ensured as everyone wondered why this was even happening.

Suddenly, it started. Electric sparks were felt, between Malfoy and the cat, as they stared at each other, blue eyes meeting green.

Hermione opened the door a second later, about to say something, when once again, "SHH!" was heard.

She waited, patiently, when finally two minuets later, Draco blinked.

"HAHA! RYUUZAKI! I had no idea you were this useful! Thank you my dearest L named cat!"

"L?!" was all Hermione managed to say before- "ignore what I just said. I never met him or anything."

"You've met him?!" Hermione asked astounded.

"Uh," all tenants of the compartment were thoroughly confused, only Hermione and Mello knew what they were talking about.

"Anyways, Draco, you've lost, so fuck off," Mello managed, shoving out Draco and his two giant body guards, and slamming the compartment door shut on them.

Hermione looked astounded at his choice of words.

"Anyways, you guys should change we'll be there in-"

"Attention, we will be arriving Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage in the compartments and it will be brought to your room,"

Mello grinned, "Well then, I suppose we better change?" another excuse to shove people out. Hermione blushed as she walked out.

The three took turns changing in the compartment, much to Mello's contempt, the wizard robes weren't very cool at all. But at least he wasn't in Ron's robes- battered and bruised.

The three were sitting down, gathering the rest of the wrappings from the sweets, and throwing them out on the conveniently placed garbage can in the compartment.

A single chocolate frog was eaten by Mello when the train finally slowed down to a stop.

People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, a gruff voice was heard over Mello: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

A giant's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Mello decided there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. "No more'n four to a boat!" the giant called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.

Mello and Harry were followed into their boat by Ron and Hermione. "Everyone in?" shouted the giant, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!" And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled the giant as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said the giant, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" a voice which Mello would assume was toad-boy's pet cried blissfully.

Ryuuzaki hopped off of Mello's lap onto the cold stone steps- a single dim lamp held by the giant ahead of him. A crowed of children were swarming him, causing discomfort, but he followed the crowed anyways. Arriving at a huge, oak, front door, the giant knocked on the castle door- three times. Creaking, the door swung open.

**A/N: Well that's done. Six thousand words. Wow. Anyways I had a couple of A/N's I wanted to insert- but I forgot what they were. Someone told me it ruined the flow of the story. I couldn't help but agree (sorry person, I'm too lazy to check your name) when I saw another story doing the same thing I did. But either ways, I wanted to say- Mello's face turned red during the train ride when Ron complimented him. He may be a genius- but remember children, he's eleven.**

**I want to also make a note to all and tell everyone that yes- I dislike Ron. In some ways. I think that Ron is too simple of a character- one of the main reasons. A Gryffindor lover, Slytherin Hater- he's like the people that hate on your favorite anime or music or what-not. But I won't bash him, ruining the quality of the story. Just for future references- cause I have a bad feeling about this dude.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A woman in her emerald green robes, stood there, looking as taut and strict as she did from the first day Mello met her.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,"

"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here,"

The doors were fully wide now- enough to fit a house in-between. A huge marble staircase at the end of the stairs gleamed proudly against the dim-lit torches on the wall.

Professor McGonagall led the first years across the stone floor towards the marble staircase- leading up to another set of double doors. Thousands of voices were heard behind it- the rest of the school must have already been there- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while your waiting."

The Professor eyed the frog boy's cloak which was fastened under his ear- and Ronald's smudged nose. Finally, her eyes landed upon Mello's distraught clothing. Indeed- distraught. The suit shirt underneath the cloak was not tucked in- his robes weren't clasped together, and Mello's tie was swinging freely from his neck.

Mello thought about it- and clasped his robe together after a quick bit of deciding. Nothing else was done to improve appearance.

Professor McGonagall sighed, and turned away, "I shall return when we are ready for you, please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort out houses?" asked Ron.

Once again- Mello zoned out, putting his hands in his pockets. Then suddenly- he gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start," Professor McGonagall had returned- still eyeing Mello critically.

"Now form a line, and follow me," her voice was sharp and cold- cutting through the air.

Mello observed the ghosts- a million thoughts rushing through his head at once.

Absentmindedly he formed a line- next to Hermione much to his discomfort. She was speaking rapidly about the ceiling. The hall was incredibly beautiful, Mello had to admit. Four long tables stretched down- parallel to each other with glittering goblets and golden plates set on them. Floating candles' wax were dripping, never reaching the floor. Thousands of people already sat at the tables, some obviously older, some younger, perhaps the second to seventh years.

Mello's gaze went down from the endless sky to where Professor McGonagall had placed a four legged stool with an old, battered, wizard's hat on it.

For a second, it was silent.

Then the hat began singing.

(Most of you would skip through it anyways so the song won't be inserted)

The hat finished singing, leaving a stupefied Mello standing there, staring at it, mouth agape. The hall had burst into applause, and suddenly, Mello felt there were too many things to think about now. Ghosts, an endless ceiling, a speaking hat, candles which wax never seemed to fall... It was quite a lot to take in.

_Magic_, Mello scoffed recovering his senses quickly.

"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted, Abbott Hana!" McGonagall said, a girl with pigtails stumbling forward.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hufflepuff table burst into applause- the table on the right.

As the Professor began to call names off of her long list, Mello noted that some people took quite a bit to decide, and some people took a little bit of time.

Mello sighed and wait for his name to be called.

When finally after a lot of people were called, he heard, "Mihael Kheel,"

Mello almost groaned when he heard his real name, but walked up anyways. All eyes followed to him as he walked out of line. He hated it. Why his real name?

It was a sense of security to know nobody knew his name- no one could track him down if he became L _w__hen he became L_...

When he put the hat on his head calmly, he was surprised once more to hear the hat speak within his mind, after sorting through his memories.

_Your ambition is astounding, Mello. Ravenclaw would love you with your incredible intelligence. But Salazar would see it fit to put you into _"SLYTHERIN!"

The hat's statement echoed through the halls, Mello got up, putting the hat back onto the stool. He walked towards the Slytherin table which had scattered clapping. He plopped down next to some guy called Marcus who was muttering something about broomsticks with the person next to him.

After a speech Mello didn't feel like listing to, finishing with "oddment, nitpick, blubber, tweak," the feast began.

Mello stared as thousands of plates down the row appeared, greasy, fat, and delicious. His eyes were wide, and the rest of the Slytherins began piling plate on their food. A smirk appeared on his face, as he also began piling his plate with anything and everything, chocolate or not.

"I've never heard of _Kheel, _you a muggle-born?" the raven faced man began a conversation, seventh year judging by his height.

"Sure," Mello said.

"Listen here, first-year," he said, his size doubling in a sudden attempt to intimidate, the posture Mello was used to facing, "muggle-born _children _don't have no place in Slytherin. So if you get in the way of us noble pure bloods, I'm going to hex that-"

Mello interrupted, despite the raven face's tall and intimidating structure, holding in a noble stance, Mello somehow managed to look more intimidating, looking up to the man with an icy glare, "I don't care about which family you were born from, I don't care whether your pure blood or half-blood or muggle-born. But your threats are meaningless to me, until you carry them out I'm prepared to take appropriate actions against you."

"You dare talk to one of the house of Yaxley?!"

"Oh, so now you're going to hide behind your family name," Mello said in mock falsity, "so scared, aah."

The rest of the table began staring, "The first year is facing off with that seventh year?!"_  
_

"Not only that, it's Noah, Noah Yaxley!"

The man pulled out his wand pointing it at Mello, and cast a hex that Mello didn't hear. A shot of red light shot out, Mello jumped out of the seat, as it hit Marcus behind him. Marcus was immediately covered in boils that were red and ready to pop.

Just as easily, as the man pointed his wand at Mello once more, he took the plate and smashed it into his face, chicken, mashed potatoes, and chocolate putting.

"Exactly what is going on here?!" a greasy haired teacher was striding over to them with Professor McGonagall not too far behind.

Professor McGonagall angrily looked at them, "I have never seen more outrageous behavior!"

"Professor McGonagall, this is a matter within my house, I shall address it accordingly," the greasy haired teacher turned to McGonagall.

McGonagall's stern look faded, as she cast one glare back at Mello, and returned to the teacher's table.

"Detention for a week, both of you," the greasy haired teacher said.

"Excuse me sir," Mello asked in a timid voice, feigning innocence, "he cast a spell at me, and I was afraid he would cast another one, so I did what I could to block his vision... he even got Mister Flint, sir!"

Mello had heard the name as they were taking Marcus Flint to the hospital.

"That excuse will not work on me Mr. Kheel. I am ashamed of my house if a first year causes trouble on the _very first day. _It is my job to put you in line,_"_

"Yes sir," Mello replied, not letting the slightest grudge slip into his voice, calmly and indifferently. It was very different from the innocent plea voice the greasy haired teacher was taken aback, but it did not mask his features.

Lucky for him, they did not pull him from dinner. As soon as he said, "I wish there was chocolate," a huge plate of chocolate appeared out of nowhere.

Mello's eyes widened.

The chocolate had heard about the spawn of the sweets eating master and screamed in terror.

An evil smile came up to his face as he chewed down on the blissfully delicious chocolate, the rest of the chocolate was shivering in fear.

Mello was ignorant of this. But with each bite it was increasingly delicious.

Draco slid over to the seat next to him, "Hello."

"Hey," Mello said, distracted by the sweet melting chocolate swirling around his mouth.

"The cat," Draco stated.

"Yes what about Rue-chan?"

Draco merely raised an eyebrow, but continued anyways, "I want a rematch."

Mello's sweet chocolate was disappearing down his throat, leaving a blissful feeling within his mouth.

"Mmh," Mello groaned.

"What?"

"Yeah... you can have... a rematch," he said, taking a small sip of pumpkin juice, as he picked up another piece of chocolate.

Draco did not say much else, as once again, Mello was launched to heaven.

* * *

Mello salvaged as much chocolate as he could, slipping them into napkins and such, storing them as far away from his body as possible- his pockets. Mello never understood why chocolate never melted in his pockets- it was interestingly enough, because of his magic. Right then and there, as he put the carefully wrapped pieces into his pocket, he realized it was the magic all along.

As the perfect told them their password, Mello found the common room to be decorated to his liking, unusually.

The skull decorated fireplace that was barely doing enough to light the room, it's hearth keeping the room warm. Leather couches sat around tables, worn down but nice. Everything was glowing slightly green, the cold stone walls damp from condensation. It appeared the Slytherin common room was underneath a lake.

Nothing was heard, seeing they were underwater, perhaps a few displaces of current here and there, but the atmosphere was rather calming.

The perfects and the heads were listing off the first-year's new rooms, as Mello listened for his name.

"Kheel, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle will be in the fourth dormitory to the right," it appeared Draco's staring contest rematch would be sooner then he expected.

Mello could feel his body telling him it was night, so did indeed, follow the head-boy to where he indicated was the male dormitory rooms. He arrived at his room, finding his trunk sitting on his bed, skulls decorating the base. The beds were all different looking, as he walked to the one on the far left. Ryuuzaki already appeared to like it, as she jumped up onto the bed, curling onto his pillow.

After changing and such, he told Ryuuzaki to get off... but she laid there stubbornly. Mello sighed and put his head on the cat. Who jumped off- at last.

* * *

Life at Hogwarts was certainly interesting, as Mello would say, except frustration was one of his biggest weaknesses. The one vanishing step made him angry the first time he got caught in it, angry enough he broke off one of the bars holding the stair's railing. He never tripped again. But the doors- you could go through all the doors in an hour and none would be right.

Metal suits of armor were trampling around obnoxiously, ghosts flew through you, and the feeling was not pleasant. Peeves the one goddamned ghost, was the stupidest most attention grabbing thing that Mello had ever met. And he hoped they would never meet again. Filch had a cat named Mrs. Norris who- unfortunately, did not get along with Ryuuzaki. At all.

Ryuuzaki wandered the halls just like Mrs. Norris, unlike most animals kept in the common room. When Ryuuzaki wanted to return, she would simply meow to the portrait, who had taken a liking to Ryuuzaki, and swing open.

Mrs. Norris and Ryuuzaki got into the most evil of all fights, due to this, the caretaker, Filch, hated Mello with a passion after Mrs. Norris returned with a long scar down her arm, and Ryuuzaki looked undamaged.

Despite all the annoying things, Mello in fact, did enjoy some of the lessons. Repeat, _some of the lessons. _For example, Professor McGonagall had an exceptional lesson. Mello had thought wizards were unknown to logic, but Professor McGonagall made things make sense, a fantastic teacher. She had given them matchsticks to turn into needles, and with a grin, the matchstick turned to a needle, after quite a bit of practice.

Hermione, on the other hand, had always insisted upon being the best. When Mello turned his matchstick into a needle quicker then she did, she was not happy. McGonagall of course, evenly awarded them both points, but she was still seething in anger as Mello gave her a smirk _I was first._

Mello didn't even take notes, having all McGonagall's rants stuck within his head. McGonagall had eyed him oddly, as she called to him after class.

"Mr. Kheel, I hope you do not expect to keep up in transfiguration without taking notes?" she asked him coldly.

McGonagall regretted asking him that, "Of course Professor, I remember everything you said word-for-word."

She raised an eyebrow, as Mello began speaking in his best impression of Professor McGonagall's voice, "Transfiguration is some of the most dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned," he began.

"Transfiguration is a complex art that involves changing an object into another object, an animal, or perhaps something bigger. Things similar in shape are..." as Mello ranted off the beginning parts to the informative parts, McGonagall looked astounded, as she realized, indeed, the boy had memorized it word for word.

"You expect to remember this tomorrow?" she asked.

"No, obviously not,"

"Then why don't you take notes to remember?"

"Because I don't expect to remember your entire speech, I expect to remember the important information that comes out of it,"

McGonagall, sighed, "Alright Mello, but I will call you back here, and tell you to start taking notes if you cannot keep up."

"I'm sure of it, Professor,"

"Hurry along then," the Professor shooed him off.

* * *

Mello arrived at Defense against the Dark Arts, once again, in the same class with the Gryffindors. Apparently, Dumbledore was trying to make inter-house relations better by making the long term enemies cooperate.

To simply put it, Defense was a load of shit.

Everyone appeared to be disappointed in the garlic smelling teacher, as he ranted on about weather or what not. Mello took this time to do his newly assigned Transfiguration homework. Half listening for when the turban headed teacher would start actually teaching, and paying attention to the newly found complex theories.

It was a lot of homework, but fairly easy, as Mello remembered her long speeches.

Finally the bell rang, saving him from the disgusting garlic smelling room- Mello didn't mind eating garlic, it was the smell, "And in the end, we get the shittiest teacher for the best subject. Fucking teach next time," Mello angrily said to the teacher in front of the exiting class that paused to watch. Mello had known many people were looking forward to the class, including the Slytherins, despite the fact most were more interested in dark arts.

"My transfiguration homework was more interesting than you," Quirrell looked too surprised to speak, as Mello stuffed transfiguration homework into his bag and headed out.

Mello had memorized whatever he could within his head the first way around, knowing which doors did what, which stair cases were fake, and the placement of everything. He loved how Draco didn't actually converse with him yet Draco stalked him, knowing Mello knew everything. Most days Draco's nights were homework filled so he didn't think about the staring contest rematch much, Ryuuzaki was often out wandering anyways.

Professor Flitwick was a short, enthusiastic teacher, whom actually taught. Flitwick was not nearly as strict as McGonagall, and did not concentrate on logic as much. Yes, he was logical, but his charms and such, he didn't have an complete explanation. Mello found this out as he muttered to himself in the library, Charms were not difficult, but there were a whole variety of theories behind them, and not many had backed themselves up very well.

Mello sighed once more, snapping the book shut. Draco was still stalking him, and it was getting annoying. He was reading a book not too far away. Turns out they had the exact same scheduled, unless exceptional, most first years of the same house were in a class together.

"Your book is upside down," Mello approached the boy reading a gigantic copy of _Hogwarts a History..._ but upside down.

Draco stared at him, then looked back at his book, "Oh..."

"Listen Draco, I know your stalking me, you even abandoned your minions to follow me. Why?"

Draco turned pink, "B-because... you know the way,"

"Yeah... you're going to have to figure out your own way around eventually, you should start practicing not following me."

Draco turned a deeper shade, and muttered something inaudible.

"What?"

"... it's scary to not know the way,"

Mello said nothing, but sighed, wondering why he was such a child.

"Well Draco, all the other first years put up with it, you haven't,"

"You haven't either,"

"Yeah I have, once, I learn from my mistakes faster then most people,"

"Oh..." Draco was still pink, "alright then..."

He flipped the book back the correct way, and sighed.

Mello decided to find better company. So that Wednesday, for the first time in what seems like years, the Slytherin decided to go sit where the single, lone, studios Gryffindor hid.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Hiding from Draco," he replied.

Hermione always believed books were right, and she believed the word of many. So here a Slytherin was, unlike the rest, sitting calmly, reading up _Theories on Charms._

"What are you reading?" Hermione asked, slightly interested.

"_Theories on Charms_," Mello replied bluntly.

"I see that, but why?"

"Because I'm curious as to see what causes charms, where they come from, and... yeah," Mello's voice drifted off, obviously staring at the book too hard.

"Oh," Hermione's voice fell, as she returned to her own book, just as Mello finished his chapter.

"What are you reading?"

"_Magical Drafts and Potions," _Hermione replied bluntly._  
_

Mello instantly recognized it as the first-year potions book.

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you read that? The most there is in there is a bunch of recipes and little tips and theories. Those are the kinds of things you brew and learn from,"

"Obviously it's easier to preform it once you're in class," Hermione said, big brown eyes looking back at him.

Mello stared, "That's no reason,"

"What do you mean?" Hermione's concentration wavered from her book.

"I mean it's pointless. Like say, you want to learn to cook, so you read the recipe over and over again, and you finally cook it. There's no reason to just not know the recipe all along, follow the instruction, and you'll come out with the same results."

"But you'll know better what to expect,"

"Then read it once,"

"How do you know this isn't my first time?"

"Most people can't remember that information at once, so they've got to read it several times over. We have potions with you guys on Friday, and that book would take a day for normal people,"

"You say most people and normal people like you aren't one," Hermione said, affronted.

"Yeah, that's cause I'm not," Mello replied coolly.

It wasn't supposed to come out arrogant sounding but apparently, "Arrogant jerk" was what Hermione said, before she returned to her book.

"Well fuck. That's nice, but sometimes it's nicer to be normal," Mello then returned to his book.

Hermione turned pink at his words, wondering how he could swear, "language!"

"Got a fucking problem with my fucking language?" he looked straight at her in the eye.

Hermione sighed, "You shouldn't speak like that,"

"Don't fucking tell me what to do," Mello was only playing with her, having dealt with many people against an eleven year old with a dirtier mouth then an average teenager.

Hermione was blushing deeply now, "Seriously..."

"Bitch," Mello protested.

Hermione gave him a dirty look. Mello merely grinned.

"I can speak however the fuck I'd like to," Mello said quietly, as Madam Prince gave them the evil eye.

Hermione was still deep scarlet as she returned to her book. Mello was inwardly laughing, as he realized that his book was getting nowhere. He got up and decided to pick out a new one.

* * *

It was Friday, and the class many Slytherins were excited for was potions. Mello had indeed, found the potions books to be interesting, finding many cures to diseases that were incurable.

When he first walked into class, he sighed, it was Snape. Nobody saw him much, as far as Mello cared, Snape made him clean all his cauldrons by hand. With Noah. They mainly ignored each other, simply cleaning half the cauldrons. But Yaxley seemed almost afraid to speak up, so Mello thought this Snape must be a pretty intimidating teacher.

And he was.

Mello saw the way Snape held himself kept all the eyes forward and attentive.

"Welcome to potions class," he said softly, as he pulled out a scroll, and began calling student's names.

And like Professor Flitwick, though at that time, Mello wasn't paying attention, he paused at Potter's name.

Mello didn't know what was so great about the kid, the kid that was abused. If anything that kid needed a psychologist to help him recover from childhood trauma. He was so attentive to every detail, and understood every threat that it was almost crazy his mind worked. It was a fight or flight for him, and Potter picked flight every time.

"Ah, yes. Harry Potter, our new... celebrity," everything in Professor Snape's eyes screamed hatred as Snape looked upon the boy. Mello noticed, Snape was looking not directly at the boy, but almost... to the side. Weird. He finally finished calling names, his full name god damn it, and began to teach class.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Mello snickered, he was actually beginning to like this guy. The professor didn't have a problem stating his opinions honestly, who had a passion nearing an obsession to his work.

The snicker did not go unheard but it was ignored.

"Potter," Snape barked, "what would I get if I added powdered root to of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know sir," Harry replied, fervently. Mello saw his hands clutching then relaxing.

"Tut tut, fame clearly isn't everything," the professor sneered to him. Mello raised both of his eyebrows beneath his bangs- it wasn't hard seeing they were already half covered.

The professor stared at Harry long and hard, or it looked like it. It seemed as though this Snape was clearly afraid of looking at Potter in the eye. Not specifically Harry, just his eyes. Something was weird about that.

Mello thought- the lesson continued- not too far as Hermione's hand was frantically waving around. Snape clearly hated Harry, for no particular reason. Either someone that looked like him... the realization suddenly hit Mello.

Snape was in love with someone- that girl- most likely, went off dating another guy and perhaps Harry looked like that guy, except for his eyes. His eyes looked like his mother's.

Hermione's hand was still waving around when Snape finally finished questioning the boy, and asked why no one was writing anything down.

Snape never noticed the long haired blonde in the back not even bothering to lift a quill.

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

Mello stared at his own culdron which Snape merely hovered over for two seconds, then awarding five points for Slytherin for doing it correctly. Hermione's potion was the same color and texture as his, as she glared at him, but Snape never awarded her points.

And she wasn't too happy about that.

She was standing nearby him, so he whispered to her as Snape was yelling at the boy that melted a cauldron, "You probably haven't experienced such blatant favoritism before," Mello said to her, "sorry it was today."

Mello was honest when he said this to her, as she looked surprised. It was how Whammy's house worked. Everyone loved Near, Near was calm, quiet, but never spent time with anyone, ignoring everyone like he was a god. Mello was rude, brash, but still smarter then the rest- except Near. He was resented for being so good while Near was worshiped for being so good.

It made no sense. But when Mello looked at it from a objective point of view which he swore he would never do again, it was simply because Near was so similar to L and Mello was so opposite to L, it was like God and the Devil.

When the lesson ended, Snape had a reason to deduct two points from Gryffindor, because he hated Harry. But Mello honestly didn't care enough to protest his unfairness. And honestly, Mello only cared if the unfairness was pushed upon himself.

* * *

Hermione and Mello sat in the library, at the same table once more, Draco had given up on stalking Mello since Mello would cast a spell in a book he found to make him turn to slow motion, as Mello disappeared within the crowds before Draco sped up.

Hermione finally put her book down, and looked at the reading boy, dead in the eye, "You let something slip up about L."

"I thought you weren't talking to me," After Mello had called Hermione a bitch, she had cried in the bathroom for a few days, no one there to comfort her. It was a Slytherin move to pounce on Mello's only weakness, _L. _

"That's irreverent,"

"Ah, taking a cold demeanor at the whole thing, are you?"

She glared at him but said nothing, "With you, I have to withdraw all my emotions-"

"Well, I'm happy you've never met Near," as he said this his fist clenched, but loosened.

"-because you hate everybody instead of discriminate like most Slytherins do,"

"Incorrect, Hermione, have you noticed that it is not the Slytherins that discriminate, but the Gryffindors. The Slytherins are simply responding adequately, and due to there inferiority status, everyone sides with Gryffindors,"

Hermione did not look offended. In fact if anything, she seemed to brighten a bit more, "But it's always the Slytherins that tease the Gryffindors about their poor wealth or inferior blood status,"

"But it is always the Gryffindors that jumped to conclusions first, no matter whether they're right or not, against the Slytherins. If no one knew which house anyone was in, everyone would be mixed. Everyone has a personality from each of the four houses if not, three, to some level,"

"But the Slytherins are the ones that discriminate while the Gryffindors are always the ones that get into fighting fist to fist,"

"That's because most Gryffindors let the blood get to their head and respond opposite to what they wanted to, and Slytherins know what they're doing and how to insult someone."

"That doesn't make it right,"

"Unless it's true," Hermione looked like she had been slapped. They both stopped arguing for a moment.

"And about when I said 'bitch' earlier, don't take it personally, I didn't mean that you were one, I was simply protesting the fact that you told me not to swear,"

Hermione recovered her senses quickly, and understood suddenly, Mello was apologizing. He was _apologizing. _Mello never apologized, never. When Mello swore loudly in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall took off points from their house, but he looked like he didn't give a fuc- care. She wasn't going to succumb to swearing now.

The professor did not push Mello any further, did not issue detention much to many people's surprises. Instead, she simply took off house points and Mello couldn't care less.

Mello was deemed her rival, and she could not have asked for someone better. She had wanted someone to compete with when she went to Hogwarts, even the smartest Ravenclaws were below her book-smart intelligence. But one person, a Slytherin, had always gotten something faster then her. When teachers awarded points, Mello came first, then on second note, Hermione did. She hated it.

But as she worked harder, tried harder, studied harder, it felt like no matter what she did, Mello effortlessly passed her.

"Thank you," she finally said after a moment.

He looked at her for a minuet. Finally before he could say anything, she came up with another argument, "Publicly incorrect though."

"Who cares what the public thinks?"

"Hmm, most people?"

"If you were fat, I would say you were fat, I'm not gonna suck it up and kiss your ass," Mello lied about this part, but he wouldn't say that. It was the example of why he lied.

_"Am I fat?" _Hermione was anything but fat, Mello knew that, but if anything, everyone knew one unspoken rule about females. Never call them fat. No matter how skinny, or whether they really are fat or not, for some reason, all girls seemed to hate that one word with a burning passion. Which is why he lied.

It was not because it was publicly inappropriate to say that Hermione was fat, it was not because it was untrue, it was because she was a girl, that Mello immediately said, "No, it was an example."

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Although the argument faded away to simple flipping of pages, and Mello nor Hermione cared to argue further, Mello did succeed in bringing the topic away from L. The two that were too tired to argue both knew eventually that the topic would resurface once more.

Mello knew next time fate would not be so kind.


End file.
